#willinore

READ “DR WILLIAM JAMES HENRY” HERE

“The Doctors at Harrington Lane”

Pellinore and Will were exhausted by the time they returned from the colloquium. The two weeks in New York had been even more tiring than usual. Their days had been filled with a mutual worry over what the other one was thinking. Their nights with things the thought of which made Pellinore blush.

He had spent the entire train ride back in silent imagination. Stalwart scientist though he might be, he was not immune to flights of fancy on occasion. He was trying to put together how this would all work when they were reinstalled in Harrington Lane. Will would sleep with him in his room, of course. He was in the master bedroom, there was no reason to take Will’s smaller quarters.

Perhaps they might relocate their reading to the sitting room and lounge together on the sofa. Now that they were more than colleagues might Will wish to do familial things? Celebrate Christmas perhaps.

Will shut the door of 425 Harrington Lane and both of them stood in the foyer for a long moment without moving a muscle.

“Here, s- Pellinore, let me put your things upstairs.”

Pellinore handed off his traveling bag and watched Will climb the stairs. Will would assume he ought to put them both in Pellinore’s room wouldn’t he?

He walked to the kitchen and stared at the door to his laboratory. On the one hand, it had been more than two weeks since he had been down there. On the other hand, he didn’t have anything much to work on, as they had been gone, and they had been working themselves to the bone for weeks getting Will ready for his paper talk.

His stomach growled and in a rare moment he thought that Will must be hungry as well. He turned away from the basement and opened the pantry to dig out some carrots and potatoes that had survived them being gone. Will always managed to turn odds and ends into edible soups. It couldn’t be that hard.

He was struggling to cut through the carrots when Will reappeared in the doorway.

“You have to peel them first, Pellinore.”

Pellinore looked up at him, glaring in frustration, “I don’t know how to peel carrots.”

Will handed him a paring knife, “Just cut off the outside layer with all the dirt, stand over the waste bin.”

Pellinore took the knife and began gouging chunks of carrots into the bin. Will snatched the knife back.

“Not like that, come on, you’ve seen carrots peeled, it’s not that hard.”

“Will Henry I am a world renowned scientist! I am hardly required to also know how to peel carrots!”

Will rolled his eyes and disappeared into the basement.

Pellinore followed quickly after him, “If you want to work I suppose we can skip dinner.”

But Will was already turning back around by the time Pellinore reached the bottom of the stairs, “Here,” he said, handing Pellinore a scalpel, “It’s clean and everything, take the top layer of the skin off. I’ve seen you skin a ten foot cat and leave the hide in one piece, you can do carrots.”

Pellinore took the familiar instrument with a tiny frown and returned to the carrots. Painstakingly he sliced the topmost layer of carrot off, bent over the work so he could use utmost care.

An eternity later he looked proudly up from his perfectly skinned carrot to find the rest of the carrots and potatoes roughly peeled and cut into chunks.

He stared at them incredulously, “I was doing it, Will Henry.”

Will glanced behind him from the stove, “And taking a hundred years about it, Pellinore, I’m hungry.”

Pellinore dropped the peeled carrot onto the cutting board and let the scalpel clatter onto the table, “You obviously do not require my help.”

“Since when have you ever helped cook?” Will asked to Pellinore’s back as he retreated to his library.

Pellinore did not respond. Three steps into his library and he realized he had overreacted, but he was not about to go back into the kitchen and apologize.

“The Doctors at Harrington Lane” will be posted this weekend!

(This is shameless self promotion)

After many requests, the sequel to “Dr. William James Henry” is on its way. It will have: 

Domestic shenanigans

Porn

Pining

Garbage Warthrop doing Garbage things

Monstrumologist Fanfiction

Rating: M

Willinore

Oneshot

Pellinore swept through the kitchen toward his basement, rubbing a shaving nick on his jaw. His hand instinctively swung the door to shut it behind him and close him into his underground laboratory. Halfway closed he forestalled the action and wavered on the top step. He rocked back onto his heels, nostrils flaring at his own indecision. It had not been until that very moment that he had realized he was waiting for the mail, that he worried he would not hear the postman if he were locked away downstairs.

It would have been possible to argue to himself that sensitive remains might, on any delivery, be left upon his stoop by an ignorant mail carrier. Now that he was without an assistant he must be more prompt at fetching his own deliveries. But he could not quite bring himself to this pragmatic falsehood. Lying was, as he had so frequently told his one time young assistant, the worst form of buffoonery. He was waiting for a letter from Will Henry.

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